


Goin' On A Squeegee Hunt

by kyburg



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: Adorable Bruce Banner, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Clint Is a Good Bro, Fuzzy Wuzzy was a Bear, Gen, Home Team Advantages, Homesickness, Natasha takes the quinjet shopping, POV Bruce Banner, Pepper Potts loves your taste in friends, Science Bros, Science Bros Field Trip, Thor and Steve Rogers Not Appearing In This Fic, Tony Stark loves a good road trip, local color
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2173323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyburg/pseuds/kyburg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark gets homesick for Southern California.  Bruce Banner has never been.  Tony knows a place where Bruce can't possibly harm anything if he tried.  Problem is, it's at the top of one of the highest mountains in California, ten short minutes straight up riding a big metal bucket on a rope.</p>
<p>Where there are rattlesnakes.  And other things.</p>
<p>Among them, magic.  Small magic, that walks on soft paws and makes no noise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goin' On A Squeegee Hunt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_wanlorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wanlorn/gifts).



> Fulfills the request for The Avengers x Fairy Tales - and a wonderful chance to tell an old yarn from where I grew up. Enjoy!

In hindsight, Bruce Banner realized he had been doomed to die in a pile of pine needles in the wilds of the San Jacinto Wilderness the moment Tony Stark had announced he’d had enough of his shop in Stark Tower, New York traffic, Nick Fury, bad Mexican food and wanted to go home.

Complaining about Florida oranges, road salt and man-made canyons, Tony had paced the floor of the mezzanine of Stark Tower, the February skies wet and cold outside while a fire burned merrily in the fireplace. “If I were home right now, I could be outside in shirt sleeves, Bruce,” he said, his dark eyes snapping in frustration. Pepper Potts sipped at her hot cider, curled up on in one of the chairs next to the hearth, her expression both pensive and mirthful. “There have been years where it was possible to surf right now – right this very now, okay? Instead, here we are in nature’s Frigidaire and be grateful for it. Okay, not that I’m knocking New York, it has a lot going for it, not the least of which is it’s not San Bernardino – you know about San Bernardino, don’t you Bruce? Never mind, the less you know the better – Palm Springs is nice, if you can’t be in Malibu, I guess. Maybe. Can at least find a place that knows a decent tortilla soup from stale corn chips and chicken broth. If you know where to go, and I do know where to go, Bruce.”

Clint Barton had only leaned back against the door jamb and smirked as Natasha Romanov sat down next to Pepper, resting elbows on her knees, cupping her chin in her hands. “Homesick, hmm?” she had murmured, sotto voice to Pepper who only rolled her eyes and nodded in mute agreement.

“In September, he complains about the lack of seasons in Los Angeles,” she said in reply, “Then how nobody dresses for dinner, appreciates a good education or knows what a bagel is from a round piece of bread with a hole in it.”

“Never knew you were so fickle, Tony,” Bruce had said, hopefully to stem the rising tirade. But then his friend had turned and looked him in the eyes, jaw dropped to begin another sentence and stopped dead, even with one hand raised in a sweeping gesture. 

“Fickle,” Tony had repeated, his animated face falling as Bruce watched. Closing his mouth, the raised hand dropped to clasp the other in front of him as his eyes fell to study the floor, then flicked away to stare into mid space, mouth twisting into a wince as the hands separated to snap fingers, then clap hands. “Well, it’s been a while for that one but over geography?” he said sadly. “I don’t recall, Bruce – refresh my memory – but you’ve been there in your travels, haven’t you?”

From what Bruce knew, Tony’s home was now a flat spot on a bluff in Malibu, the cellar sealed shut and the perimeter of the property closed off by security fences. Nature was quickly reclaiming the land with chaparral and tumbleweeds, the sea breezes blowing the sand across what was left of the foundation. “I – uh- kind of didn’t visit Los Angeles,” he said quietly. “Closest I came was crossing the border from Mexico into New Mexico, Texas a few times. I’m sorry, Tony.”

The engineer had only stared back for a moment, neatly silenced as one hand came up to cup his chin, propped up by the other at the elbow. Bruce knew he had already pressed his hands together, nervous under that direct gaze as he stood in the middle of the room. But he didn’t look away. He had managed to silence Tony Stark, but that didn’t mean he had kept the man from thinking, and if there was anything he had learned about his evil twin (Nick Fury’s words, not his), it was just how fast Tony Stark could go through any number of terrible ideas – as well as a few brilliant ones – in the span of a few moments.

“Tash, there’s enough flat space to land a quinjet at the old homestead, isn’t there?”

Tony didn’t turn to look at Natasha, but the question was couched in an almost playful tone, friendly and light as spun sugar. Bruce looked from Tony to the one woman he feared as much as she feared him – for good reason, she was one of the most facile chameleons he’d ever met who used that talent as a world-class assassin and he was just an unpredictable force of nature when properly motivated. They’d met, as the saying went. 

For her part, looking up out of the corner of her amber-green eyes, smiling like a cat caught in the cream, it was clear Natasha was going to enjoy indulging Tony’s fancy, as far as it could go. “I suppose it could be arranged,” she purred. “What do you have in mind?”

“I think it’s time to watch the sun go down over the ocean instead of coming up over it,” Tony said, striding to a holoscreen. “Town car to meet us there, swap out once we get out of town….” Tapping in requests with both hands, his expression brightened further until a smile appeared with an eager nod of his head, chin lifted high.

The more animated Tony became, the more Bruce knew he was trying to make himself small enough to disappear into the floor tiles. Bruce didn’t do flashy and spontaneous…life tended to do those things to him, and rarely by choice. For every flash of red fire Tony Stark brought into his life, Bruce kept reaching for the greens and browns of earth and growing things to ground and center him. “Really, Tony – if it’s all the same, I’d be just as happy taking a nap under a tree or something – “

“ _Excellent_ idea, Brucie – I know just the thing.”

And that was when a quinjet suddenly got routed to a point midway between Twenty-Nine Palms and Palm Springs, with him on it as well as Tony and Pepper, Natasha and Clint piloting. “Sunscreen, your warmest clothing and how good are your mountaineering skills?”

His first impression of the place was how many shades of beige sand came in, the contours of a glaciated valley and how peculiar the trees were, if you could call the yucca plants trees. For all that the place seemed named after palm trees, very few of them actually lived away from civilization any more than the green grass of the golf courses did.

There were roads, just not very big ones. The sky over head was as blue and cloudless as a picture postcard, the air dry enough to choke on and the temperature in the early morning sun already warming up past what the tower had been climate controlled to. The car had been a convertible, top down and Bruce had claimed the back seat for his own once Clint and Natasha told him they were staying with the jet, maybe even doing a little sightseeing of their own – buzzing the local Marine base a definite possibility, Clint had claimed with a twinkle in his eye.

So with Tony at the wheel, Pepper riding shotgun and Bruce sprawled in the back looking into the sky, they had set off. “A lark, a whim, a grand adventure,” Tony had chortled. To Bruce, it was just another good reason for Tony to wear another new pair of sunglasses.

###

After stopping in at Hadley’s for a date shake (delicious), a few bottles of wine, bags and bags of nuts, dried fruit of all kinds and wasabi peas, they continued to make their way across the valley with one of the most straight up and down mountain range Bruce could recall jutting up to his right.

“Twelve percent angle,” Pepper had said around a mouthful of chewy date cookie, “Tilted fault block, active tectonic area, the works. What do you think?”

“I think I can’t see the top from here,” he had answered. Pepper had then given him a quick lesson on the variety of dates she had handy. From the dry ones Tony insisted Bruce pack the pockets of his jacket with to the moist, tender ‘dessert’ variety Pepper would feed him while he drove, Bruce found himself bemused and entertained as the ‘native guides’ expounded at length on the culture, geography and culinary delights of the sparsely populated desert found near Palm Springs, but not really part of the town itself.

Manzanita bushes in full bloom, their white blossoms in contrast to the ruddy maroon bark of their branches. Sage bushes, just like in an old western movie, dotted the landscape between the ubiquitous yucca, barrel cactus, prickly pear cactus and boulders. And sand, oh the sand – it was everywhere, from coarse decomposed granite to fine alluvial drifts that dusted the car and made Bruce pull his collar up over his nose and mouth when they passed by a cloud of it.

The most attractive part of the whole ride was how empty it all was. Tony had promised there would be no danger he – and the Other Guy – could possibly pose here, and looking at the desolation around him, he believed it.

Then Tony took a right turn, and headed for the mountain range, intercept course. “Wait until you see this one, Brucie. We’ll be up on top inside the hour, ‘bout six thousand feet in elevation higher. And you’ll never guess how.”

“Sky hook.”

“Better,” Tony said, looking over his glasses at him, the shenanigans dancing in his eyes. “Bucket on a rope.”

He was certain he was in jest. Then they pulled into the parking lot of the Palm Springs Tramway and route – and method – became obvious.

Footing a system of cables and towers that reached from the valley floor where he stood to the top of the mountain range, Bruce shaded his eyes to see a flash of sunlight off the station’s windows at the top of the tramway and then heard the rumbling whir as a car left the station behind the building to begin its climb upward.

It was indeed a bucket on a rope, if you counted that the rope was made out of thick steel cable and the bucket was a slowly turning carriage that looked like a large light rail car with one arm sprouting out of its roof to attach to the cable above.

“We’re going to ride that,” he said with no little alarm. “Oh this sounds like an incredibly bad decision already.”

“Five ecological zones, Bruce. Thirty degree difference in temperature. Major engineering marvel and it’s only gotten better with age.” Tony grinned as they climbed the stairs to enter the station. “And the tech is appallingly simple, efficient and yup, they’ve been test driving some alloys I came up with building the suits.”

“You’re here to visit your stuff, is what you’re saying.”

“And commune with nature,” the engineer chortled, “Of course.”

The biochemist in Bruce was noting the changes already – sand was giving way to rocky slopes with conifers, and the higher the elevation, the taller the trees became.

Pepper just took out some day packs and filled them with her Hadley’s purchases.

Frankly, Bruce was more impressed by the lack of attention they attracted as they were waved through (a knowing look at the older staff and the doors simply opened for them), but nothing more was said as they waited along with a gaggle of other tourists, families and hikers waiting to board the overstuffed light rail car that turned like the bar on top of a downtown skyscraper.

When it came time to board, Bruce wasn’t surprised when Tony stood in the center of the car and motioned him to do the same. “Swings less, just take deep breaths.”

But once it was in motion, Bruce stopped caring. It was like flying, easy to imagine floating above the canyon as he found himself eagerly taking in the changing scenery as it moved past him. The trees got taller, changed type. The soil became rocky, then dark and full of plant matter. When the tram reached the top of the station and the doors opened, Bruce took one deep breath after another of the scented air outside the station. Moister, chillier and full of the scent of pine trees, both their sap and the needles as they were crushed underfoot into powder.

Birdsong reached his ears and his head swiveled around to find its source – blue jays, woodpeckers and yes, there was a hummingbird buzzing past his head to find the feeders hanging from the eaves of the station itself, of which most of the space inside was dedicated to a restaurant.

It was clear Tony didn’t have a leisurely meal in mind, charging through the station and down the stairs to where a small cemented path wound down to a clearing surrounded by tall conifers, the ground thick with pine needles, cones and grass. Stopping, he turned and put a finger to his lips, eyes bright over the sunglasses now perched low on his nose.

It was utterly quiet, the wind in the trees the most noticeable sound and even it was muted. Instantly, Bruce felt the tension bleed away as he found himself looking up, then into the distance as nothing blocked his view for miles in any direction.

“There’s a ranger station just over there,” Pepper said quietly, shouldering her pack. “Let’s go say hello while Tony visits with – yup, there he goes.”

The older man approaching them from under the station itself was easily fifteen years their senior, silver hair cresting a sunburned head with bright eyes and a matching smile as he approached Tony with an outstretched hand to shake, dressed in the khaki uniform Bruce had seen other employees wear, with sturdy boots on his feet. Clearly who he had come to see, Tony turned to meet the other engineer with a matching expression and a murmured greeting.

“So, how’s it working for you?” Bruce heard Tony say as they turned and walked back toward the station – and the tech inside it.

“Oh, better than expected – we just got the x-ray studies in, you’re going to be very happy with the findings, I am certain of it! So glad you came, you know? Hope we won’t bore you to death, Dr. Stark but it’s wonderful to have you for a few hours!”

Tugging him away, Pepper met Bruce’s eyes before her mouth twisted and she laughed.

“Dr. Stark?” he asked, hearing the incredulity in his own voice. “Since when?”

“Shush, this is one of the few places he lets them do that,” Pepper answered. “He’s got three doctorates, just never thought being known for them was that flattering. And there is the whole ‘I’m not a doctor doctor’ thing – you get that, you know what that’s like.” Slowing to look over her shoulder, shielding her eyes, Pepper’s expression turned fond. “Here, he’s just one of the guys playing with the world’s biggest erector set. Come on, station’s just ahead and then we can go up the trail a ways. Thought there might be snow here this time of year but they did mention a drought.”

The station was just two rooms, a solar powered office and an alert but friendly park ranger who appreciated some of Pepper’s snacks. Cautioning them against rattlesnakes, bubonic plague squirrels (they really have those, he’d asked Pepper sotto voice, nearly making her lose her composure) and possible black bear in the area, he’d suggested they wander up the path towards the peak, even if they didn’t plan to go all the way to the top.

Walking up the trail, heavily wooded on both sides with pine needles shushing under their feet, he’d handed his jacket to Pepper early on as the exercise warmed him up.

Looking back, he wasn’t sure who had spooked the rattlesnake who had just come out of hibernation, but he did recall what he’d done when it had coiled on the rocks lining the trail and quickly struck out at Pepper.

He’d put out his hand and grabbed it, watching it sink long fangs into the meat between his thumb and forefinger. Bruce had heard Pepper first gasp, then hiss in alarm before she said “Go, Bruce. I’ll find you. It’s okay. Go find a place to deal with it. I’ll find you after.” Strong and steady as the ground under his feet, her voice firm without a waver. _Do what I say, everything will work out._

He loved Pepper for that, but also at that moment? He really was angry at that rattlesnake for ruining his good mood and that was the last coherent memory he'd had before he’d woken up where he was now, quite naked and alone, buried in a pile of pine needles so distant from where he had been there were no landmarks he recognized.

He was still in the same climate zone, same altitude but the silence he recalled from the tramway station was magnified even more as he slowly became reacquainted with his own consciousness.

“Oh man. Not even a clothesline to steal from.”

Picking his head up, expecting to see a wide swath of destroyed vegetation, he was both relieved and puzzled to see very little displaced. Hardly even a path or a clue which direction he had come from.

Or even how he had become buried in the rapidly-beginning-to-itch pine needles, piled over him from the shoulders down, even to bury his toes. Bruce was also sleepy, which he knew wasn’t a great indicator but that, and the fatigue leftover from a sudden Hulk-out won over good sense and he put his head back down and fell asleep.

He wasn’t sure if Tony had brought a suitcase suit or not, he hadn’t looked. But there was a quinjet buzzing Marines somewhere – Pepper would find him. She’d said as much, and that you could tie to.

###

The next thing he knew, he was warm. Really warm. Like, under a feather comforter in summer warm. Soft warmth, furry warmth…that was purring.

Something alive. Opening just his eyes, Bruce sighted down one arm, noting the healed bite mark the snake had left to see a pair of stippled brown hindquarters stretch out and walk out of his line of sight.

Very large hindquarters, belonging to the largest jackrabbit Bruce had ever heard of, let alone seen, the fluffy tail brushing his nose as it went past. No, as _he_ went past, thank you very much.

Bruce wasn’t sure he was good having that much information.

Then he noted the pressure of many smaller bodies laying down on top of him, next to him. Turning ever so slightly, he looked back to see himself completely covered in a herd of large brown and cream bodies, noses tucked between paws and eyes closed in slumber.

Every small head crowned with a rack of tiny, ivory-colored antlers.

Turning back, he found himself nose to nose with the largest of them, the one that had been in motion when he woke up.

Eyes large, liquid brown, so deep he thought he might fall into them, with long lashes that had white tips that blinked at him under a rack of antlers with six points on them.

“Hello there,” he managed, soft as he could be. “You’re not supposed to exist.”

The jackalope in question didn’t appear to care. Opening his mouth, displaying a long set of incisors and tidy pink cheeks, he leaned forward and licked Bruce between the eyes with a raspy tongue, clearing away something only he could see.

And then nudged him with a very cold nose.

“Thank you, I guess.” Reaching up, he brought away a number of fingers smeared with both dust and dried blood, as the jackalope nudged his hand aside to continue lapping at the small injury on his forehead. _Must have scratched something falling down._ Holding very still, Bruce waited until he was through washing him, and slid away with a satisfied look on his furry face. "Now that, that qualifies as outside my comfort zone. I hope I'm not allergic to jackalope spit."

Moving slowly, Bruce decided the best course of action was to sit up. Being watched intently by the jackalope now seated at his head, he displaced most of the other animals perched on top of him who only moved away as grudgingly as he did. “What in the world – “

To a member, they all grumbled like small versions of sleepy dogs as they let him sit up, shaking off the pine needles and dust, some of them sneezing.

Then they climbed back into his lap, others leaning against him. “Do you know where we are?”

“They might not, but I do.” The familiar voice was so unexpected, but so welcome Bruce couldn’t help spinning toward it. _Pepper._

Pepper was there, sitting in much the same pose he was, surrounded by her own crowd of jackalope, her daypack sitting next to her. “Tell me how this works. Use small words, I’m not at all sure of anything right now,” he said, hearing the relief infuse his voice. “Particularly when it comes to tiny, pointy antler thingies.”

“You took me with you,” she said simply. “And as you can see, I’m none the worse for it so don’t go there. We’re about three good bounds due south of the ranger station, I’ve already seen Tony and I expect to see the quinjet any time now. Have a nice nap?”

“What the – where the?”

“Here, watch this. Shh.” Taking a large Medjool date out of its bag, Pepper split it open before offering it to the nearest jackalope. Sniffing it delicately, it took it from her fingers with neat, nearly raccoon-like paws to separate the pit from the date, taking the pit in its mouth and pushing the now pitted date back to Pepper.

It then ate the pit, crunching loudly with great enjoyment. And then looked to Pepper expectantly for more.

“They only like the pits, don’t want the meat and when one of them found the wasabi peas, they all hissed and dragged the bag off that way somewhere. Don’t think I want it back.”

“You’re not supposed to feed the wildlife,” he said lamely. “God, I am dreaming. They’re too cute for me not to be dreaming this entire thing.”

“You woke up pretty rough, we’d gotten separated at the end. Glad they found you. They came and got me - I was just over there, near the creek bed. I think you bumped your head.”

A burst of noise announced Iron Man, the bright red and gold of the armor flashing overhead. To a member, all the jackalope flinched and looked skyward, hissing.

“Luddites,” Bruce said, laughing. “I can’t wait to see what they do when the quinjet gets here.”

Clearly having spotted them, Tony guided the suit over to a flat spot near them and landed, kicking up a small cloud of dust as he did so. “Hey, big guy – having fun with the locals?” His voice sounded futzed, coming through the speakers of the suit, and the jackalope all turned and presented their antlers, growling and hissing as he turned towards them, not one of them, even the Prince, taller than his knee.

“You know anything about these things?”

“You’re the biochemist, you’d know more than I would,” Tony answered, “Hey, I’m on your side! Not going to eat him! Calm down or whatever it is you guys do – “

“Flip up the visor,” Bruce called. “The face on that thing always did look kinda cranky – “

“Cranky, is it?” But he did as Bruce suggested and the effect on the herd of jackalope was immediate as the heads came back up, the noise ceased and great brown eyes widened on every face. Then an equal portion leaped over to the armor’s side, all of them on hind legs stretching to get a better look. “Well, then. Hello to you too. Bonus points, for sure, all that. Glad I’m getting video of this.”

“They’ll just say it was doctored, you know they all will,” Pepper said, mirth touching her voice as she handed another date to a jackalope who neatly took it from her fingers and daintily pitted it for her.

“You look good in dust,” Tony said, gesturing towards Bruce. “You know that?”

“It was a snake. Why did you want to go where there were snakes? Bit me.”

“Which is all well and good, considering you _ate_ him.”

“I what.”

“Ate. The snake. Yum yum, not even Shake N Bake. I’m told they’re a good source of protein –“

Turning to look at Pepper, he was rewarded with a matter of fact shrug from the redhead as she offered another date to the small audience she had at her knees, chewing on the last one.

“Ugh.” Sighting the quinjet approaching, Bruce began mentally rehearsing what he was going to tell Clint and Natasha to avoid dying of embarrassment. “This has been the strangest summer camp experience of my life, and I guess I have you two to thank for it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“No, think nothing of it.”

Reaching out to the nearest jackalope, the largest one that had been standing watch over him as he slept, Bruce slowly lowered a deft finger to touch the animal between the antlers and was rewarded with a headbutt into it, eyes closing as he started to purr. “You guys go hide when we’re gone, okay? You know, hide and stuff? Seriously, what is it with these guys? They’re not even scared – “

“Oh, that’s your doing, big guy,” Tony answered. “Once you ate the snake, you sort of picked them all up and gave ‘em a hug. Then Pepper brought out the dates and I think you guys made friends for life.”

“Picked them up.”

“Gave ‘em a hug. All at once. Really cute, actually. Maybe that's how your got the scratch on your forehead, those little prongs are sharp.”

“You got video of that.”

“No, wasn’t on site yet, Pepper told me. Pity, really.”

It was almost too much to believe. Sitting and petting the Prince, Bruce was almost sad when the sound of the quinjet approaching finally broke the spell and the herd scattered into woods.

“They’re magic, you know.” Looking up at Tony in his suit, Bruce found the statement so out of character he burst out laughing. “You know, the good kind of magic. Little bunny feet magic stuff.”

“I can't believe you just said that. I’m going to blame the altitude.”

###

Wrapped in warm blankets, dressed in the loose, wrap-around clothing they kept on hand in the quinjet in case of Hulk-out, Bruce dozed as they made their way back to New York.

Tony muttered in his sleep about alloys, route 66, and half-sang U2 songs about not finding what he was looking for.

Natasha showed Pepper what she’d found shopping in Cabazon. 

And Clint stole the rest of the dates.

Nobody believed them about the jackalopes, even though they believed Bruce ate the snake. He found that curious, and a little insulting.

And Bruce did everything in his power to keep Tony from getting homesick ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcome, cherished and bronzed for posterity.
> 
> EDIT: Here, have a picture.
> 
>  


End file.
